


Morning Runs, Missing Swords, and Outdoor Escapades

by vanibella



Series: The Silm Mythology AU [1]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, It's a Greek AU, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 16:09:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5462783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanibella/pseuds/vanibella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which everybody looks for everybody and things go awry. Oops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Runs, Missing Swords, and Outdoor Escapades

**Author's Note:**

  * For [japastiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/japastiel/gifts).



> All because I was reading Percy Jackson and was watching Sleeping Beauty. Go figure. 
> 
> This is quintessentially part of a series I'm doing on a Mythology AU of the Silm. First up will be the Feanorians, and then I'm planning to do the Fingolfinwions. Any ideas though, on what Fingon and Turgon should be gods or deities of? 
> 
> Also, thank you to glorfinhel (japastiel) for letting me use her Tyelkurvo ship, the one where Tyelko is the head of Orome's cult. I don't think this is what you had in mind, but I hope you still like it, so yeah.

It was a few hours after sunrise, and the sun was slowly beginning its ascent into the sky, bathing everything in a golden glow. A young man, perhaps a few years short of manhood, was searching around the forest. He wore a white chiton draped over his shoulders, with a bow and arrow slung across his back, and a hunting knife hanging from the cord wrapped around his waist. His strong arms were bare save for the gold cuffs that were wrapped from elbow to wrist, and he was barefoot. Muscled but lean, he had broad shoulders and muscles that rippled across his back and chest every time he moved. He was every bit the image of a young hunter at his peak, daring and adventurous, impulsive and wild.

In fact, he looked a bit too perfect. If someone were to take a closer look, he seemed to emanate a golden aura, a sure sign of a god.

“For someone who spends all of his time in a forge, you sure do know how to cover your tracks…” He muttered, kneeling down to peer at the broken twigs littered about the underbrush. His clear blue eyes darted around the area, focused and attentive to any signs.

Truthfully, animals were more of his expertise, but under the tutelage of one of the Titans, Oromë, he had learned plenty about the hunt. That, and his cousin, the maiden huntress Irissë, often dragged him on hunting parties, giving him plenty of practice.

“However, it’s not enough to fool me.” He turned back to the clearing and whistled. “Huan!”

A large hound leaped out of the trees and trotted up to him. Underneath the sun, his yellow fur glowed gold, much like the hunter’s own hair. The canine immediately started to sniff about, then raised his head in the general direction of the woods. He was pointing. The young god smiled.

“Good boy.” The hunter patted the dog’s flanks. Turning back to the trees, a smirk crossed his lips. “You better watch out, little brother, you’re losing our little game.” Whistling again, both master and pet broke into a run.

 

\--

 

In a quiet glade not far from the hunter and his dog, another god languished about in the soft grass and greenness of the woodland. The wind was but a gentle caress here, making the willows whisper and spreading the sweet aroma of the flowers that were in full bloom. The plants were lush here, full of color and life, and the birds twittered about, singing with a certain joviality as they hopped from one tree to another.

Oh, he wasn’t a nature god, but his fellow deities often said that he could be one, because of the gentle demeanor that he had and the way he loved peace and quiet. That, or maybe it was because he was weary of the uproar caused by 6 other brothers.

Nonetheless, music was his domain, and in music he found his joy and love. Once settled, he took up his lyre and began to strum, vocalizing before he sang. It was some time before he began the tune to his favorite song, but by then, he had felt the presence of another in his sacred haven.

“Tyelko, I thought I told you that no one was allowed in my glade, lest they want to go deaf.”

“Not even your favorite brother?”

The minstrel turned around and heaved a long-suffering sigh, despite the exasperated smile on his face.

“Maitimo, not now. Please?”

“Why not?”

The newcomer, who had wavy red hair that reached the middle of his back, strode forward and settled next to his brother on the grass. His grey eyes sparkled with mirth as he pressed a quick open-mouthed kiss to his younger brother’s lips.

“I was drawn by the sweet vocalizations made by your voice… I simply followed the singing and then found you.”

“No doubt come to bring me back to your bed.”

“True. Or,” His brother placed a hand on his thigh, coyly playing with the hem of his blue chiton and caressing the soft skin there, “I was looking for the culprit responsible for my missing sword.” The elder of the two withdrew his hand and gave his brother a long, hard stare. “It’s not you, is it, Makalaurë?”

His brother glared back. “Why in the name of Finwë would you think it was me?”

“You have the longest standing record of being the thief of my belongings; revenge every time I rendered you hoarse at night, yes?”

“I’m not that desperate to achieve retribution. Besides, does my voice sound hoarse to you?” Makalaurë nipped him on the jaw playfully. “Have you tried those who trifle with mischief then, our twin brothers Ambarussa and Ambarto?”

“I couldn’t find them this morning.”

“There’s your answer. Now leave me be, I wish to be at peace.” Makalaurë made a shooing gesture with his hands, but Maitimo simply caught him by the waist and dragged him into his lap. Makalaurë enjoyed the attention being paid to his neck, but it bothered him not being able to meditate first thing in the morning.

“Stop it. Findekáno is your plaything, go find him and put him to good use.” Makalaurë tried to pull away, his violet eyes turning gray with annoyance. Was it so hard to leave him in peace?

“We’re not having this discussion again, ‘Laurë.” Maitimo’s expression momentarily grew hard. “Why must you scorn our cousin in jealousy and spite? I am entitled to as many lovers as I want, but you must remember that the love I have for you does not need to be earned.”

“Maybe I want you to myself.”

“That’s selfish thinking, ‘Laurë. We are immortal-”

“Yes, yes, I know. But fidelity is one of the main constructs the Titans have given us. Is it so bad to want that?”

“No, but we are not married, are we?”

“You don’t need to be married to be loyal to one another!” Maklaurë’s shoulders sagged. He sighed again after a moment's thought. “Aunt Ëarwen has often said that our hearts are in tune. Why are they misaligned then, now?”

“Aunt Ëarwen is a mischievous thing, Makalaurë. Our engagement with love is her amusement; she likes to keep things interesting, and by interesting, I mean difficult.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that.” The younger of the two tucked back a piece of auburn hair behind his sibling’s ear, smiling sadly at him.

“For what’s it worth, I do love you. I just don’t understand myself. I want freedom but I want permanence as well.”

They sat in silence afterwards for a while, bathed in sunlight and contemplating their situation in quiet melancholy.

“For someone whose expertise is in the art of warfare, I’m surprised that you can’t sort out the war in your heart.”

“I think the only consolation is that I know my way around in the bedchamber.”

 

\--                                                                                                                            

 

Atarinkë hurried through the shrubbery, though he couldn’t help but feel like a love-struck fool as his stunted breaths increasingly turned into short bursts of delighted glee. What was he, a peasant maid who was being chased by her sweetheart?

(Technically, he was, but that wasn’t the point.)

Frankly, he didn’t know how this started, but he supposed it was because of his shape-shifting abilities and betting that Tyelko couldn’t beat him in his animal form. Panting, he stopped to catch his breath and survey his surroundings. He was pretty deep into the forest, probably somewhere close to his brother’s glade judging how the path was less worn and beaten and the near-deafening volume of birdsong in the area. He looked up, and there, to the left of the path, was a tree that was laden with gold birds. Makalaurë’s private sanctuary was definitely nearby. Tyelko would never think to go there unless-

A loud bark roused him from his thoughts. Quickly, he transformed into a hind and then ran as only a hunted animal would, leaping over fallen logs and mounds of leaves, his spotted coat blending in with the dappled sunlight of the forest floor.

If Huan had tracked him, then there was little to no chance at all of beating Tyelko, and then he would have to wait until the next moon to be able to go back to the forge. So far, he had succeeded 9 out of 10 games, though he wasn’t so sure if he could keep up the winning streak today.

Yesterday’s work had left him exhausted, babysitting the twins and then travelling all over Greece to gather the materials that his father needed in the forges.

Another bark sounded, this time louder and closer, and the trickster knew that the hound of his brother was at his heels. He chanced a glimpse backwards, and then sped up when he saw how fast Huan was gaining on him. Unfortunately, he had failed to notice that the dog’s master wasn’t with him, and the flash of gold that appeared out of the corner of his eye was the omen to his downfall.

That was the last thing that he saw before something barreled into him from the right, and then he was soon tumbling over on the path. He realized that the flash of gold was indeed Tyelkormo, and he silently cursed his carelessness as he rolled on the ground, changing back into his normal form.

He gasped for air, groaning in pain as he did so. He was dizzy and disoriented from the impact of the fall. As soon as the forest canopy became clear again, he struggled to sit up, glaring as his brother’s smug face came into view.

“You didn’t have to hit so hard, you know.” Atarinkë rubbed his sore ribs. That was going to leave a bruise.

“Oops. I guess I don’t know my own strength.” Tyelko crossed his arms and tapped his chin thoughtfully, jutting out a hip. “Would you prefer an arrow on your side, then?”

“I’d prefer to hack you into pieces.”

“That’s nice, coming from someone who just rolled about 10 feet. You bowl over so easy, little brother, like a porcelain vase.”

“Shut up, Tyelko.” He felt around his sides for any broken bones. “How’d you find me?”

“You left this.” His brother held up a cuff that dripped with gold fringe. “All I had to do was follow the glittering trail.”

Atarinkë scowled. He forgot to remove his jewelry before the run, groggy as he was with sleep at dawn. Usually he removed all shining adornments on his person before going to sleep, but he had foregone the nightly routine in favor of throwing himself onto his soft bed, eager to procure what little rest he could before the sun rose again.

Tyelko discerned the boneless way his brother moved, and sighed in understanding. He quickly scooped up his brother from the ground and set him down on a tree trunk.

“Ow!”

“You’re such a princess.”

“You’re the princess, what with your flowing golden tresses and mesmerizing blue eyes.” Atarinkë’s words dripped with sarcasm, but there was truth in his gray eyes.

“You love it anyway.” Tyelko smiled as he set about cleaning and examining the scrapes on his sibling’s arms and legs.

“So, Oromë wants me to do another ceremony later. Can you come?”

“To what? Another one of your shaman rituals of dancing around a fire and drinking animal blood like some barbarian?”

“For your information, O highness,” Tyelko pressed cold fingers to Atarinkë’s tender skin, making him yelp, “we convene with the dryads and nymphs on issues about humankind’s abuse of what was so freely given to them, and then we decide on what to do about it.”

“Fascinating.” His brother glowered at him, slapping away the cold hand.

“Anyway, since this is somewhat near ‘Laurë’s hiding spot, why don’t we pop over for a visit? With luck, which I’m pretty sure we don’t need, ‘Timo is with him.”

“Why?”

“He was supposed to visit Carnistir today, I was hoping I could tag along to ask about this one mortal who-”

“Spare me the details, Tyelko. I suspect that you’re going to ask him again to devise an entirely new and excruciating punishment for this mortal?”

“You got me.”

After deducing that his brother was once again fit to walk and free from any more life-threatening injuries (which made him the recipient of more cursing and protests), Tyelko continued on his way with his sibling. 

They went on for another few minutes, chatting and pushing one another good-naturedly, Huan trailing behind, when they heard it. The two had finally reached Makalaurë's glade, and Atarinkë suddenly found himself wishing that he and Tyelko were still bickering in the woods. 

“Oh Manwë no.” The younger of the two buried his face in his hands. Breathy gasps and moans, tempered in with grunts and high-pitched whimpers came from behind the wall of young oaks they were standing beside.

“They’re at it again. Surprise, surprise.”

“Couldn’t they just save it for the bedroom?”

“It’s not like they’re any less noisy, you know. After all, Makalaurë does have a wide vocal range.” As if on cue, their brother let out a loud scream. The two paused and strained their ears to see if their brothers were done. But after a second or so, they heard Maitimo grunting again and Makalaurë keening.

“How long is this going to take? I don’t want to listen a minute longer to them having sex.”

“When Makalaurë comes, it’s two drawn-out shouts. And by the way, I don’t see you being repulsed by the sounds we make when-” Tyelko peered in from a small opening among the leaves, much to Atarinkë's horror and dismay.

“-when you ride me.”

“What are you doing? Are you some kind of voyeur?”

Tyelko smirked.

“Anyway, break it off! Now! Or you can go see Carnistir and save the honor of your animals tomorrow!”

Tyelko was forced to bite back his retort, because dark smoke suddenly appeared in tendrils snaking through the undergrowth of the glade, and then a minute later, they could hear Carnistir voicing out his disdain.

“Why would you call me at a time like this?! In the middle of-”

“Surprise, Carnistir! I called you!” Tyelko then chose that moment to burst into the scene, dragging Atarinkë with him. Maitimo was going to kill them. 

“OUT, NOW!”

 

\--

 

“You couldn’t have come at a later time?” Thirty minutes later, Maitimo and Makalaurë were glaring at their brothers, arms crossed and postures rigid. The three would’ve taken it more seriously if the two weren’t sporting messy hair and rumpled clothes, their cheeks still flushed and the marks from their previous activities still evident across their skin.

“You know that my glade is secluded, there’s a reason why you only go to me if there’s an emergency.” Their brother’s violet eyes flickered gold for a split second, a sign that he was going to go nuclear if they didn’t explain themselves.

“Spit it out then, why’d you come here?”

“Pray tell, on what grounds was Maitimo-?” Carnistir nudged his elder brother to keep quiet.

“Tyelko here was looking for Maitimo to ask if he could tag along later to visit Carnistir. Apparently, he wants Carnistir to come up with a new, more exciting way to torture a certain mortal.”

Silence permeated the air.

“….you do know that you could just call me, right? Proved so by the incident earlier.” Carnistir raised his eyebrows. His black tunic shone with a silk-like sheen, but Atarinkë knew better than to look harder, for it was the souls of the dead that moved within the fabric.

“Besides, you misheard, Tyelko. That visit to Carnistir was last week, I was actually planning to stay in bed all day, if it weren’t for my sword having gone missing." Maitimo added again after a pause. "Which answers your question, brother dear, as to why I went to see ‘Laurë.”

There was a collective round of awe-induced realization.

“Wow.”

“You should really get your head out of your dog’s ass, princess.”

“So does anyone actually have an idea where my sword went off to?” Makalaurë locked eyes with his three younger brothers before they all nodded in agreement. 

“The twins.”

\--

“Sssshh! Here he comes!” Shadows danced behind a pillar as someone scurried to conceal himself from the open light of the temple doorway, giggles subsiding into silent anticipation.

“Ambarussa, Ambarto, have you seen-”

Maitimo made it up to five steps inside the pantheon before he was promptly drenched in sticky honey. Carnistir was none the wiser and broke into hysterics, but Tyelko and Atarinkë managed to reign themselves in, biting their lips to keep from cackling.

Maitimo was as still as a statue as Makalaurë helped to wipe away the honey from his eyes and mouth as best as he could.

“Is it bad?” When he spoke, there was just the slightest hint of an angry quiver in it.

“Should I say ‘yes’?”

“I don’t know, can I open my eyes?”

“You can.” 

When he opened them, his younger brother was smiling from ear to ear, amusement in his eyes and face, his shoulders quaking with silent laughter.

“Don’t worry, at least you taste sweet.”

“Where are they?”

“Go easy on them, okay?”

“By the time I’m through with them, there won’t be any messenger left in this palace.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
